


Liberal Education

by scalphunter



Series: Teacher, Teacher! (or Yes Sir) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Kink, Porn With Plot, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scalphunter/pseuds/scalphunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Buchanan-Barnes is a high school teacher of Criminology (senior year) in Brooklyn, New York. Steve Rogers is his favourite student ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liberal Education

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr 100 Prompts. No 50: Back To School
> 
> For Maggie and Visnja :)
> 
> This is stupid and needs editing - but I have Teacher/Student Kink and Bucky as a teacher and Steve as a student fills it.

_Intro Music: In The Next Room by Neon Trees_

James Buchanan-Barnes is a high school teacher of Criminology (senior year) in Brooklyn, New York. He took the job extremely quickly after graduating himself, needing the money, his original idea of joining the army went bust after a not-so-routine skiing accident on vacation in the Alps left his arm a little fucked. But teaching bright eyed, optimistic (and sour) students (brats) became his career. After a couple of months, he had begun to enjoy it. He is shocked to find he likes most of his students – the three girls at the back who blush and give him bedroom eyes whenever he smiles are perks in his day.

Then there is Steve Grant Rogers.

'Steve, pal, tell me your views on rehab and conditioning – and if you use the word 'good' in your answer, I'll fail you, okay? This ain't Sociology. Hit me with your best shot' Bucky asks the blond boy in the from the front row of seats.

Steve looks up, eyes wide and so very, very blue. The jock-like boy Bucky remembers seeing around the arts block when he was out for a smoke (then again Steve hadn’t yet had his growth spurt at that point, which he did over the summer, and boy, Bucky’s not small by any means but if Steve stands next to him now he feels like an elf), coughs, bites his lip, and re-reads his notes and the questions he has pencilled in the margin.

Bucky raps his knuckles on Steve’s desk as he passes him, Steve clarifying the pros of rehabilitation of convicts from 1940s to modern day. He smiles, his back to Steve, as the boy diligently does not once utter the word ‘good’.

The class goes fast after that.

 

 

 

Bucky’s glasses slide down his nose and stupid angle and gnaws at the end of a highlighter.

‘The fuck is this – she’s comparing the people who become Mossad to those of the ex-KGB’ Bucky grumbles around the pen and he shakes his head, annoyingly impressed with Maggie’s work. There’s a knock on the classroom door and Bucky spares it a glance.

‘Yeah! If your name is Stark you can go take running jump’ he calls and the door opens, revealing Steve Rogers in a baseball sweatshirt and jeans – he looks so wholesome it makes his teeth ache just looking at him some times.

‘Hi, uh, sir?’ and Bucky rolls his eyes, taking off his glasses, Steve approaching the desk in careful but confident strides.

‘Hey, Steve, stop calling me ‘sir’. I’m not that much older than you, it’s weird and annoying’

‘Whatever you say, _sir_ ’ Steve replies with a cheeky grin.

‘You’re a punk. Sit your ass down’ he scolds affectionately and Steve shrugs, sitting down on plastic chair opposite him. Bucky puts down the paper atop of Visnja’s (or as he’s taken to calling her ‘Cherry Pop’) and Michelle’s, and stares at Steve, waiting for either a question or a complaint.

‘Uh sir- I mean, Bucky’ Steve amends and Bucky nods little impatiently. ‘I can’t quite get what you meant about aggression and deviance. Isn’t aggression really always deviant from a criminal psyche?’

That. That’s why Bucky likes Steve. He has this ‘boy next door’ vibe that never truly goes away. He’s nice. He’s got sass which he freely gives out, whether he gets reprimanded or punched for it. If Bucky’s being honest – even if it’s only with himself – it’s hard to overlook Steve’s classic attractiveness when it’s sitting in front of him every other day. Also, he’s not afraid to ask questions. He’s stubborn and resourceful and hates being left in the dark.

And Bucky’s a teacher: so that’s why he rolls his eyes, kicks back in his chair,  and re-explains his five statements on criminal aggression and puppeteering to an apt, open, Steve.

 

 

 

Bucky sends himself to the medical office when he burns his hand on the kettle in the teacher’s lounge. In his defence, he wasn’t exactly on full steam (ha!) and just wanted coffee; his reaction times were pathetically slow. Natasha would be disappointed in him – then again, his ex-fighting partner is out on a private black ops mission for the military and he is in a high school. He stands in the corridor and then walks along it, his head swimming at the stuffy feel of the place. He eyes the main office and stops short.

‘Steve?’ he asks, bewildered and the main school nurse, the pretty brunette, turns and gives him a smile.

‘Hey Bucky’ he says awkwardly, sat with an ice pack to what Bucky thinks is a big purple shiner around his left eye.

‘Mr Barnes, kindly sit on the bed I’ll bring another ice pack and a bandage for your hand’ she says, wandering off to do just that and Buck hoists himself up, scowling at Steve who squirms under the scrutiny. That really shouldn’t send a thrill down his spine.

‘Who slugged you one, Rogers? Did your locker not like you today?’ he asks and Steve actually smiles: a blinding, stunning one tips his head up to squint at Bucky.

‘It’s nothin’’ and his Brooklyn drawl slips through his words.

‘Right. You need to watch that mouth of yours, Steve’ he says, meaning it, because he found out that Steve doesn’t like bullies and is a smart kid but clearly too dumb to not back down from a fight. The young boy just shrugs and Bucky knows, whether instinctively or not, that there must have been a good reason for the black eye. However, Bucky pays attention to the school gossip and Steve will insert himself into any situation he feels is unfair.

The nurse returns and Bucky holds out his hand, the ice hits the back of his hand and he winces. The medical bell sounds and she’s gone again. It’s like a one woman Grand Central Station.

‘So what happened to you?’ Steve asks and Bucky glares at him briefly.

‘The kettle didn’t like me’ he says dryly and Steve tries not smile and fails, chuckling.

‘You looked like you haven’t had you’re coffee’ he comments which from anyone else would have Bucky snapping.

‘Thanks for compliment, punk’ Bucky retorts, sarcastically, and Steve smirks. He removes his own ice pack, prods at his eye experimentally. The swelling has reduced immensely, Bucky notices.

‘Well, you look good after your coffee - when you teach my class’ Steve says and Bucky blinks in shock. He raises an eyebrow and swivels to his student who’s reddening at his cheeks. Steve’s Adam’s apple bobs.

‘Oh yeah, that’s why you sit at the front of the class?’ Bucky teases him, only half joking. Steve’s blush stays but he isn’t disputing it, licking his lips, and Bucky mentally curses himself for looking at the boy’s mouth.

‘Maybe’ Steve answers, replying with an innocence mixed with a coyness that has a guilty surge of lust spike in his gut. A slightly beaten up pupil of his shouldn’t make him _want._

He needs a bandage and his coffee, and maybe assisting Barton’s class so he doesn’t have to look at a pretty face.

 

 

 

Bucky thunks his head onto the desk, groaning into the woodwork; he has just finished marking the exam papers for his class and he kind of wants to die.

‘Everything okay, Barnes?’ Clint asks and Bucky swears, raising his head to glare at the Humanities teacher.

‘Not really. Just finished marking…’ he trails off and Clint nods at him to prompt him to continue.

‘That bad, huh?’

‘No. Just one or two disappointments’ he sighs and checks the student directory on his tablet.

Shit.

 

 

 

He’s not really a big a fan of failing people, especially ones he likes, but he just cannot overlook this. Steve has failed an important paper for this module (one that holds a lot of weight in the course) and it’s his duty to report it. The results were sent earlier today to each student. He looks at the email he has open to the department head and to Steve’s parents and hesitates. Shoving the tablet away from him he locks it and claps his hands over his eyes, the clock mocking him with its ticking, that’s it’s after school hours and he hasn’t budged from his seat. The lights are dimmed in the corridor outside his classroom, with other teachers either home or working in the lounge, students left a while ago, others in recreational activities elsewhere. He thinks of his couch, the beer he has in his fridge and the baseball game that’s waiting for him. He stands up in one swift direct motion, shrugging on his blazer and pushes the sleeves up to his elbows, reaches out to check his phone when there is an urgent knocking at his door.

‘Yeah, yeah come in I’m just leaving’ Bucky calls and the door opens, revealing a very worried looking Steve Rogers. _Oh no._ ‘Hey Steve, what happened with your module? You were doing well, pal?’ Bucky asks and Steve is now beside his desk. He looks like he ran across campus, his usually neat hair is windswept and there’s a wild expression in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry sir, I’ve been a little distracted lately’ Steve says and Bucky slows his movements down, discarding thoughts of going home just yet.

‘What have I told you about calling me ‘sir’?’ Bucky says on reflex, a little harsher than he intends. Steve deflates and he has the energy of a nervous rabbit about to bolt. ‘Hey, look, Steve calm down. Okay? Talk to me’.

‘I failed. I can’t fail, Bucky, not this, not now. Everything was finally on the up for me and the GPA I need for Brooklyn Arts-‘ he frets and Bucky knows how much Steve has wanted to go to Brooklyn Arts College – on a scholarship because he can’t afford the fees.

‘I know you want to go to BAC, but Steve, it wasn’t even a close call on your paper. You had the lowest score of the class which isn’t like you. If it was a borderline I _might_ have passed you, but it wasn’t’ Bucky sounds like asshole, and Steve crumples even further, picking at the wood on Bucky’s desk.

‘If I got to BAC, I can get the job I was offered at Marvel Comics. You remember you told me to send in my designs?’ Steve lights up a bit and Bucky nods.

‘I remember. They were really good. I’m flattered you based one on me – what was it – the Winter Solider’ he says, crossing his arms and moving to perch on the corner of the desk. Steve doesn’t  budge, although he startles for a second. ‘You can still work for them, get a reference-‘ Bucky offers and Steve shakes his head profusely.

‘No. No, I can’t’ he emphasises. ‘Please Bucky’ and if he isn’t begging, he’s very close to it.

‘Steve-‘ he starts, however his resolve is already starting to crack under the gaze of his favourite student.

‘Please’ Steve whispers. He lowers his head, breathes a few steadying breaths, and when he catches Bucky’s eyes again there is something else glinting in his irises. ‘I’ll do anything’ Steve adds.

‘Are you asking what I think you are?’ Bucky demands and Steve shies away, retreating inside himself, as if he goes any farther he’ll run out of room. He touches a hand to Steve’s jaw, lifting the boy’s head up again. He pats Steve’s cheek.

‘Don’t patronise me’ he says suddenly with a fire Bucky has seen before, in classroom debates and out in the tarmac.

‘I’m not. I wouldn’t do that to you’ he says, partly truthful.

There’s a moment of stillness, where neither of them moves, and Bucky is certain Steve is about to storm out. Instead, the boy steps boldly in between Bucky’s legs, just out of his grasp. Bucky’s blood zings with a powerful hunger. It’s an abuse of his position, what Steve’s offering, and he could get sent to jail and never work in a school again. To say he’s never thought about it is a lie. To say he hasn’t jerked off to broad shoulders, blond hair and an insolent mouth is another lie. He’s never wanted to fuck a student previously, and if he flirts, it’s all in good humour and he means nothing by it. Steve is an exception to the rule, like he is with everything else in Bucky’s life, and he has this aura – which makes people – men mainly – like Bucky want to mess him up, to make him pant and squirm under their ministrations.

‘I am asking what you think I am, _sir_ ’ Steve pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, giving him the full puppy eyes – cute and hot and _oh, fuck_ , there goes every ounce of Bucky’s tenacity. This kid has been his weakness since the first day.

Bucky uncrosses his arms, places them on either side of him on the desk, shifting his hips. The swelling hardness under his dark grey pants presses against the cotton of his briefs. He sets his jaw, tips his head back to fix Steve with a stare and he receives an unfaltering one in return.

He’s so _gone_ on the kid.

‘Remember what I said about your mouth, Steve?’ Bucky asks and Steve nods once. ‘I’d like to see what it’d look like wrapped around my dick’ and there is the gauntlet. Up until then there and been no verbal explicitness and, yeah, Bucky thinks that’s quite blunt and explicit enough so that it’s entirely up to Steve.

Steve, who drops to his knees like Bucky’s words were the only thing holding him up right, never looks away from him. He grips at Steve’s jaw, brushing a thumb over his lips, the part, wetly, the boy gasping for air. Bucky revels in the blown out pupils, the knowledge that _he’s doing this to the kid._

‘You thought about this?’ Bucky asks, roughly retracting his hand and unfastening his pants, pushing at the waistband of his briefs and stroking himself, the need building.

‘Yeah…’ Steve admits softly, gaze now firmly on Bucky’s lap, the movement of his hand.

‘Open up’ he says, approving fingers shoving into Steve’s hair, petting gently over his scalp, the blond strands are soft and silky and Steve takes the initiative, and Bucky’s hips shift as he’s engulfed by an eager heat. Steve pulls off, running his tongue up the underside of his shaft, eyes fluttering shut. Bucky’s entranced by the thick sweep of his eyelashes. Steve nuzzles his way into his groin, seeming to savour the heady musk of Bucky’s arousal (and, Jesus, does this kid have a gag reflex?) before licking and sucking away at his blood-hot length. Steve’s a quick learner – in more ways than one – he’s learning and memorizing every reaction.  
  
‘Such a good boy,’ Bucky encourages. ‘Oh, you have no idea… how much I’ve thought about this, you and your pretty cock sucking mouth… oh, _fuck_ , just like that…’ Bucky moans, his hips stuttering and Steve shoots a glance upwards, all wide blue eyes, repressing a pleased smile around his mouthful of his’ cock, and pinches his nails of both hands hard into Bucky’s clothed thighs. Bucky’s hands twitch in his hair, gripping, stopping him roughly.

Steve pulls off sharply, sitting back on his haunches, and Bucky hisses at the loss, gaining more control again, and gulps the whimper that dares to escape at the panting, needy mess of Steve Rogers; excess saliva shining at the corners of his mouth. He’s overheated and a little stupid and this has excelled so fast.

‘How much do you want it?’ he asks, still keeping Steve in his place with a fisted hand in the blond locks. The boy moans, wanton and writhes in his seat.

‘I want it’

‘Is this just about your GPA?’ he snaps, and Steve shakes his head frantically.

‘No’

‘So if I told you that this doesn’t change anything?’ Bucky says meanly, pleasure thrumming through his body. Steve whines – and it’s beautiful.

‘Bucky…’ he whimpers, all loose with lust and wound with desperation.

‘Here’s what’s going to happen, Steve, you’re going to suck me off and swallow every drip of come’ Bucky begins, pausing , smirking at the obvious bulge in Steve’s jeans. He leans down, inches from Steve’s face and continues in a low growl, ‘I’m going to take you back to my apartment, spread you out on my bed and fuck you until you can’t remember the Miranda rights’ and it’s in between a promise and a threat and Bucky doesn’t give a flying fuck.

‘Okay’ Steve breathes rather than says and Bucky tugs his head down, his cock aching for that mouth again.  Steve settles in for a rhythm, head bobbing, mixing between suckles and grazes of his teeth. Bucky shudders, he’s so close.

‘Fuck’ is all the warning he gives the boy and Steve swallows tight around him, once, twice, and groans deeply as Bucky’s comes thick and warm over his palate. Steve licks up the traces of his release, lips smacking.  He is less inclined to linger and bask in the gorgeous sight before him, and more concerned with tucking them himself away with short movements of his hands, and buttoning up. ‘You’re still hard?’

‘Very much so’ Steve answers quickly and Bucky grins, shark-like.

‘Good. Get up, come on’ Bucky orders, willing his own body to comply, sliding off his desk. Steve stands, shakily, and he’s so wound up and for his age, it must be torture. The boy flattens his hair: self concious all of a sudden. He looks like a corrupted angel.

Bucky ignores him, packing his stuff up and walks to the door, Steve following him. Placing his hand on the handle, he twists to look up at Steve.

‘Just so you know, pal, I was going to change your grade when you mentioned your comics’ he states and wrenches the door open, leaving Steve standing in the room. He doesn’t look back, just waits for Steve to catch up.

 

 

A car ride later, at Bucky’s apartment, they don’t quite get to the bed, because Bucky loses his patience and bends Steve over the back of his couch stark naked. Steve pushes back, making all the right noises -- choked off moans and pleas -- sweat pools at the dip of his back, and there ends up being finger print bruises on the boy’s hips.

 

 

_If anyone asked him, Bucky would say that Steve Rogers was the last one to spread their legs for a grade. If anyone asked him, Bucky would say that it wasn't just about that._

_Because four years later, after Steve's graduation from BAC, and getting a job at Marvel Comics, he starts to date James Buchanan-Barnes._

**Author's Note:**

> Comment with ways on improving it if you have ideas :)
> 
> Music: Teachers by Young The Giant (It was playing while I wrote)


End file.
